Page 11 of Icebreaker

The locker room's unique combination of sounds—the clatter of sticks, the snap of Velcro, and the splash of water in the showers—greeted me on a practice day after our first five games of the season. We'd won three, and everyone, including the media, said we were doing well for a newly minted team.

Halfway through lacing up my skates, I heard a fascinating snippet of conversation. It sounded like Axel was in a deep discussion with his fellow defenseman, Max, about…food. I was instantly curious. All the time I'd known him, I'd never heard Axel talk about anything in depth but hockey.

"I'm telling you, that Swedish place on Alberta is the real deal." Axel's voice was usually so gruff and guarded, but I heardenthusiasm underlying his comments for once. They cure the gravlax to perfection and the meatballs, yum. They're almost exactly like the ones myfarmorused to make."

Max rubbed his stubbled cheek. "Yeah? I'll have to check it out. I've been hunting for a good lingonberry sauce since the big move here. You Swedes know how to eat. If you need a backup to hockey, consider the chef's hat, Axel."

I kept my head down, trying to look absorbed in my own tasks. Hearing Axel talk about something other than hockey was a strangely intimate experience, and I didn't want them to notice I was listening.

He leaned back against his stall. "Lingonberries, dill, cardamom. Yes, all the flavors of home for me."

I glanced up to see his eyes closed while a smile played at the corners of his mouth. The conversation softened Axel's chiseled features, making him look younger and more approachable.

"Okay, I'm sold." Max clapped him on the shoulder. "Maybe we should invite the entire team."

The group idea caused Axel to tense again. He shrugged off Max's hand. "Yeah, maybe," he mumbled. The castle walls were back in place.

I quickly looked down, feeling like I'd accidentally violated their privacy. My heart pounded a little faster in my chest.

When Max headed for the ice, I looked at Axel again. He stared into his stall with a tight jaw and furrowed brow. I wanted to approach and ask him to tell me more about his favorite Swedish food, but I needed more time to be ready to cross that line. I also couldn't reveal that I'd been eavesdropping.

Axel and I weren't exactly friends, at least not yet, but I'd avoided joining his enemy list. I didn't want to risk that.

So, I kept my distance and silently completed suiting up for practice. As I skated onto the ice, I rewound in my head what I'd heard in the locker room. Axel's passion for food showed aside of him I'd not seen before. I was desperate to know more. I wanted him to share his interests with me. I wanted to be the one to break through those gruff, guarded walls.

Throughout practice, I stole glances at Axel, watching how he moved across the ice. I couldn't shake the feeling that the universe had given me a precious clue to unlocking his mysteries.

A plan for my next steps started to take shape. I needed to figure out how to engage Axel in a conversation about food, and one person existed who could help me sort out the details.

***

As I was pulling lasagna out of the oven, I heard Moose's distinctive knock on my apartment door. I hadn't made the lasagna from scratch. Like so much of my food, it came from the grocery store's freezer section, but at least it wasn't pizza.

Moose started chattering as soon as I opened the door. "Dude, you'll never guess what I heard about at work today." He paused and sniffed the air. "Is that the aroma of cardboard and tomato sauce?"

I rolled my eyes and grabbed an extra plate. "Hey, it's not pizza if that's what you're thinking. Seriously, it's a big step up from the ramen and protein shakes I lived on those first couple of weeks."

"Changes, wow." Moose looked around the apartment. "A lot happens when a guy lets a week go by between his visits." He nodded approvingly at my new couch and a framed Portland Lumberjacks poster on the wall. "You've spruced the place up. I might even guess that a fully functional adult lives here."

I snorted and set the small dining table in my kitchen nook. For the first time since college graduation, I had matchingplates. "I figured it was time to climb up from dorm room to grown-up apartment. Let's eat. I'm starving, and you can tell me about this big news from work."

Moose sat and leaned forward as I dished up the lasagna. "So, I might only be an intern, but it's a new adventure every day in the environmental consulting biz. Anyway, one of the senior ecologists raved about this new Swedish-Pacific Northwest fusion restaurant while we ate lunch. Apparently, they try to stick to Swedish tradition while using sustainably sourced and foraged local ingredients."

He successfully sparked my curiosity. I paused before taking my first bite. Axel was wild about that other Swedish restaurant. Maybe Moose's discovery was another gift from the universe to help me get to know Axel better. "Yeah? What kind of stuff does the place serve?"

Moose waved his bite of lasagna in the air. "Oh, man, where should I begin? They make gravlax with wild-caught Pacific salmon and then cure it with dill and spruce tips they gather in the wild. And the lingonberries? Those are from a secret patch in the Cascades they farm to minimize its impact on the ecosystem."

I chuckled softly, picturing the lunch conversation about top-secret berry picking. "It sounds like a fascinating place, but does the food taste good?"

Moose's table manners, when excited, left something to be desired. He spoke around a mouthful of lasagna. "Dude, they said it's amazing. The chef is an import from Gothenburg, and he trained at a Swedish Michelin-starred restaurant. What's funny, though—are you ready for a laugh?"

Sometimes, I laughed nonstop when Moose was around. "Sure thing. Tell me the funny part."

"My co-worker was more interested in the underground mycelial networks where they forage for the mushrooms than anything about the food."

I grinned and shook my head. My buddy found the one person who cared more about fungal ecology than fine dining. I chuckled with him, thinking the restaurant sounded perfect for my plan. It was a blend of Axel's Swedish roots and the abundant resources of the Pacific Northwest.

"I might need to check this place out, Moose…for research purposes."

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